Treasure Island

Nikhil Parekh

(27/08/1977 / Dehradun, India)

no drinks


When I was in a mood to profusely tease my neighbors; I had a drink of tangy lemon juice,
When I wanted to swim against choppy waves of the turbulent ocean; I had a drink of wildly rejuvenating rum,
When I wanted to float in the aisles of unprecedented desire; shrugging off the slightest of my stringent inhibitions; I had a drink of voluptuously red whisky,
When I wanted to philander euphorically through the supremely dense and camouflaged forests; I had a drink of mystically refreshing coconut water,
When I wanted to fight the lion disastrously barehanded; I had a drink of profoundly seductive wine; which instilled in me the false impression that I was greater than God, upon consumption,
When I wanted to walk naked on the freezing mountain slopes; I had a drink of piquantly poignant and electric green chili,
When I wanted to simply lie down on the couch; disentangling my mind from the vagaries and intricacies of this monotonous world; I had a drink of plain and rustic water,
When I wanted to fantasize till eternity; live in a satiny cocoon of clouds all my life without respite; I had a drink of overwhelming nicotine,
When I wanted to vomit out deliberately; puking out the last iota of what I had consumed just a few hours ago; I had a drink of disdainful soap with its bubbles exploding gently in my throat,
When I wanted to emulate a mad man in astounding similarity; I had a drink of horrendous donkey saliva,
When I wanted to commence prolific activity every dawn; I had a drink of delectably sizzling and hot tea,
When I wanted to give the insurmountably constipated bowels in my stomach some relief; I had a drink of boisterously bubbling soda,
When I wanted to holistically blend with the ecstatic conversation circulating in the conference; be an integral part of the festivity; I had a drink of ebulliently golden beer,
When I wanted to gallivant on the stallion through the labyrinth of fabulous hills; I had a drink of passionately peppy pineapple juice,
When I wanted to grandiloquently celebrate my birthday; say cheers to the entire world sitting in the clammy interiors of my drawing room; I had a drink of superlatively intoxicating vodka,
When I wanted to leap in animated exhilaration in the middle of the night; halt my incessantly running nose from dribbling further; I had a drink of salubrious and steaming chicken soup,
When I wanted to appease my mother; make amends for the plethora of inadvertent mistakes which I had committed; I had a drink of impeccable cow milk; kneading it assiduously from her sacrosanct body,
When I wanted to reach the astronomical summit of Mount Everest; I had a drink of reinvigorating and tenacious brandy; once every few minutes,
When I wanted to retain a splendidly formidable memory; I had a drink of fortified iron syrup; impregnating power to my being; power to my bones,
When I wanted to speak in slang; pretend an intrinsic part of the high society without actually belonging to it; I had a drink of pretentiously sleazy brown cola,
But when I wanted to lead life; I didn't have any drink at all; for their was no magical liquid or extract made which would make me suffice its variety; infact it was an uphill struggle which was to be relentlessly fought; an invincible mission which no spurious drink on this earth could ever conquer. 

Submitted: Sunday, August 17, 2014

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